


Is it really a final showdown if you've done it a hundred times?

by spiromachia



Series: Dream SMP AUs and Cannon Divergence [9]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, BUT ONLY ONCE, Blood, Blood and Injury, Gen, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Technoblade Protects TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, TommyInnit Needs a Break (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28898064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiromachia/pseuds/spiromachia
Summary: Tommy started calling them time loops.Every day, he'd wake up in cold sweat, water dripping from his forehead at four in the morning, he and Tubbo would walk down the prime path to say their final goodbyes, they'd leave to travel to the mountain at ten at night, it would take them until sunrise to get to their destination and they'd fight with Dream at the peak of the cliffs. This was where the events diverted.But end result was always the same. He'd always die, and then he'd wake up at four in the morning again.Or...Tommy finds himself stuck in a time loop on the 20th of January and struggles to find a way out before he loses himself completely.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: Dream SMP AUs and Cannon Divergence [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149863
Comments: 21
Kudos: 341





	Is it really a final showdown if you've done it a hundred times?

**Author's Note:**

> **IMPORTANT NOTICE!!!**
> 
> I will be cancelling one of my other fics by the name of "I can tell just what you want (You don't want to be alone)" just because I didn't feel comfortable with continuing it, and I don't know if it pushes or breaks any boundaries set by the CCs.  
> For anyone who hasn't read it, it was simply Tooth Rotting Fluff, which I felt slightly uncomfortable writing, considering that these are real people we're talking about here.

"Just... just say your goodbyes."

Tommy had felt fear before. Hell, he'd practically _lived_ it. His entire life was guided by fear, by the adrenalin that pumped through his veins, by the way it curled in his gut like a coiled spring, practically begging to be undone, the way his fight or flight instincts flared mere moments before battle. All his life, all he'd known was fear, but fear wasn't his enemy. It pushed him forwards, motivated him to do better, to fight harder, to take the brunt of the horror so his friends wouldn't have to.

But now, a sense of desperation overcame him as his legs shook with the urge to sprint away. His throat closed as is a hand was clamped around it, squeezing cruelly, and his shoulders slowly dropped as his eyes widened in disbelief.

This couldn't be the end. This _couldn't_ be where it all ended.

The discs were so close, yet so far. He could run and grab then if he wanted, shove them in an enderchest and keep them protected, safe, but it wouldn't have mattered. Dream would kill Tubbo in an instant. They were vulnerable and alone, deep bellow the ground in an underground bunker of the admin's making, filled with item frames and animal pens (and, disturbingly enough, a display case the perfect size to hold a human), and Tommy felt a sickening disgust rising in his stomach, a sense of realisation coursing through him.

In cutting all ties with everything, Dream had become attached to one thing and one thing only.

_Tommy._

No, attached wasn't the right word. He was downright _obsessed_ , and now that it was clear, right before his eyes, it made him feel like gagging, like throwing up on the spot and crumpling into a ball. Backed into a corner, with nowhere to run and everything to lose, the teenager turned to the other boy who stood by his side.

If Tommy looked hysterical, Tubbo looked completely apathetic, turning to the blond with a weary smile.

"No... no, _no no_ ," Tommy began, facing the boy fully, "No, he can't do this!"

"It's alright," the other replied, shrugging his shoulders, "We had some laughs. It was- it was- it was _fun,_ while it lasted-"

"Why have you just- why have you just accepted it?! Don't just accept it now!"

Tubbo sighed tiredly and, not for the first time, Tommy noticed that his eyes were beginning to dull in an all too familiar way. He wore the face of a man, a child, who'd lost everything. He _hated_ it. Tubbo was supposed to be bright and bubbly, cheerful and unnaturally optimistic, not- not whatever it was that stood in front of him, wearing the face of his friend.

"All good things must come to an end eventually, and this is my... this is my 'coming to an end'." 

The room began to blur as tears formed in his eyes. He couldn't take it, he couldn't lose Tubbo, not now, not after everything they'd been through, after everything they'd fought for. For years, it was the two of them, Tommy and Tubbo against the world, Tommy and Tubbo against Dream, Tommy and Tubbo against Technoblade, but with Tubbo gone, Tommy would have _nothing_. He'd be split down the middle, the second half to his whole would be forever missing and he'd be forced to live out the rest of his days alone, in a prison cell, trapped and alone, just like back in exile.

"No- no, no you can't- what am I without you?!" he cried gripping his friend's arms tightly and shaking him once, staring desperately into his eyes for any sign of hope, any sign of a fighting spirit left behind. He found none, "What am I without you?!"

Tubbo smiled, bringing a tentative hand up to Tommy's face and gently wiping a tear with his thumb.

"Yourself?"

The teenager felt something crack inside him. Tubbo had given up. It was over. They'd lost and now Dream was going to take everything from him again and he couldn't-

He couldn't do anything to stop it.

"So you're really... you're accepting this?" he asked pathetically, feeling his grip slowly loosen, "Are you- are you okay-"

It didn't take a genius to realise that was a stupid question. None of this was okay. None of this was right; none of this was fair. When Tommy arrived on that mountain, it seemed that the worst outcome would be his own death, but he knew Tubbo would be able to live on without him. He'd done it before, he could do it again but he never even considered that Tubbo might be the one to fall, it was almost like the very idea had been blocked from his mind, like his body refused to think for even a _moment_ that it was a possibility.

"Yeah- yeah, it's," the brunet took a deep breath, "It's okay. We've already said our goodbyes, at the beginning, remember?"

"But we were- we were optimistic, I never thought-"

Tommy turned around to look at the figure that loomed nearby, his enemy, then his ally, then his enemy once more, then his twisted sort of friend, then his abuser. Dream, who stood off to one side looking nothing if not smug, self assured, confident. The blond clenched his fists tightly, feeling his teeth grit together almost painfully.

"Well, you know, you get backed into a corner- Dream described me as a pawn?" Tubbo joined him in staring at the admin from across the room, "This is checkmate. This is it; this is the end... I suggest you resign."

A pressure burned behind his nose but he forced himself to remain steady, to remain strong, if not for himself, then for his friend, "Tubbo, even though, for the entire time we've been here, I've always regarded you as- as my sidekick, really Tubbo? I was your sidekick..."

Tubbo seemed taken aback by that, blinking for a moment, his eyes filled with an emotion he couldn't quite place.

"Please don't go," Tommy whispered, feeling his voice break painfully, " _Please_ don't go."

"It's fine," the brunet placed a gentle hand on the other's shoulder before brushing past him, moving towards Dream in a final moment of acceptance. Tommy reached out a hopeless hand after him, feeling water finally begin to pour down his face. He tasted salt on his tongue, "It's about time anyway-"

"I'm sorry, Dream."

An familiar voice rang out through the blackstone room, and Tommy's attention snapped towards the glowing nether portal, that writhed like a mass of furious snakes as a figure stepped out into the hall. 

"The fuck?"

Before he could even process what was happening, Dream beat him to it.

"Punz?" he asked with a disbelieving laugh, his smiling face contorting into more of a grimace, and for a moment, Tommy almost thought he looked nervous.

Greyish-blue eyes glared with a newly found fury as his head tilted backwards, tufts of blond hair falling over his eye from under his white hood, the golden chain that hung around his neck reflected the supernatural light.

"I'm sorry Dream," the man repeated, and there was something about his expression that seemed almost complacent, "But you should have paid me more."

...what?

Suddenly, the portal rippled like a stone being dropped into a pond, and several dark shadows emerged, tainted purple by the light emitting from the gateway. Tommy's eyes widened as Sam stepped through, followed immediately by Captain Puffy, with Antfrost and Jack right on their tails. People began filing out of the obsidian portal, almost all of them completely covered in Netherite armour, weapons drawn, each and every one of them wearing a grave expression, their faces contorted humourlessly.

"You came!!" Tommy cried out, feeling relief sweep through him, but they weren't out of the woods yet.

"W-wait-" Dream stood there a shock, the pinpricks of his eyes widening in confusion, but before he could react, Tommy grabbed Tubbo by the arm and yanked him away.

"Tubbo, Tubbo- TUBBO! BEHIND! BEHIND!" he shouted as they both sprinted towards the group, their hearts beating out of their chests.

Behind him, he could practically hear Dream snap out of his stupor and begin to chase them, "Hey- hey, HEY!" but before he managed it, someone blocked his path, slashing at him with fury.

Sapnap.

"Step away from them," the man stated coldly, his voice filled with venom, and Dream did, stumbling backwards to regain his composure.

Tommy almost jumped as he felt a hand grip his arm and pull him to the back of the group, and everyone subconsciously twisted in their formation to form a protective barrier of some kind. He looked up to see a golden crown and sunglasses, their face staring back down at them with a calm sort of serenity. An expression of safety, of reassurance. 

"Hello, boys," Eret greeted, with a nod, and Tommy felt like crying.

"You actually came," he whispered hoarsely.

"Of course we did," they smiled, releasing both of the teenagers gently, "Stay behind me, we'll deal with him."

"Tubbo stick with me," Tommy glanced towards his friend, who didn't look like he was fairing any better than himself, "Behind everyone else, behind everyone else!"

Back in Logsteadshire, Dream always had this air of confidence around him, in the way he walked with an air of self-assured conviction and prowess, the way he tilted his head condescendingly whenever Tommy asked an innocent question, the way he'd always make sure to wear his best set of armour at all times, flaunting his wealth in front of the teenager who had nothing.

But now, that same man stood in a defensive stance, gaze flickering desperately around the room at all the faces of those he had wronged. He looked weak, vulnerable. He looked insignificant compared to the power of the people that surrounded him, each of them with a fiery passion burning behind their eyes, a burning hatred for the man who stood before them.

"You fucked _up_ , Dream," Quackity smiled a feral grin, twisting the grip on his axe. Tommy couldn't help but notice that he was only wearing diamond boots in terms of armour. It made him want to laugh, the ex-vice president's confidence.

Dream was powerless. He held no control over anyone, other than-

"Shit, Tubbo, the discs!" Tommy gasped out loud, and he didn't even need to glance at the other boy before he was booking it across the room to the second item frame. Practically launching himself towards Mellohi, he didn't even take a moment to breathe as he opened a nearby enderchest-

Or he would have done, if a sudden intense pain didn't erupt through his chest.

He gasped silently, feeling his body jolt as a burning sensation shot though his ribs and he slowly turned his attention down to his shirt, where a blooming stain of red creeped outward like a rose opening in the morning light. 

An arrow head pierced through the fabric of his once white T-shirt.

There was a cry of anguish from nearby that sounded oddly like Tubbo, and Tommy turned to where the projectile must have come from, only to see a gap in the group's formation, where Dream stood triumphantly, a bow in hand and quiver of harming arrows strapped to his back. Some of the adults approached him as his legs buckled underneath him, but he never hit the floor, and there were hands on his body but he couldn't see anything, a creepy smile was the only thing he could make out through the blank and empty space.

"Oh god-"

"Tommy- listen to me Tommy you have to-"

"Hey, kid you're gonna be okay-"

"Please stay with me- Tommy please you can't- don't leave me alone-"

"-straight through his-"

"-a lost cause-"

"-is wrong with you?! He's a child-"

"-the fuck did you DO?!"

"Take him to the prison-"

"-your eyes open, look at me-"

As much as he wanted to listen, he felt himself being dragged under as his eyes drooped shut. Someone yelled, begged him to stay awake, to stay alive, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't muster the energy to open them again. It was like he was stuck in limbo with no way out.

The noises sounded like they were far away, behind a barrier of impenetrable glass that he couldn't even begin to chip away at, his movements sluggish and exhausted.

Maybe going to sleep wouldn't be too bad.

)()()(

He woke with a start and instantly threw a hand up to clutch at his chest, almost expecting to feel the arrow protruding from his flesh, the phantom pain still very much present between his ribs and he could practically feel the blood pouring from the wound, pooling and dripping disturbingly.

But, under his hand, there was nothing to be found.

He sat there in shock for only a moment, before he felt his breathing start to pick up as he tugged at the fabric, but still, there was no sign of any sort of trauma, not even a scar in it's place, even though he could still sense the sensation of something stuck under his skin, like the wood was still embedded in his very rib cage. He reached a hand up to his face, expecting to feel at least a bandage or plaster, but instead of finding the mark that marred his skin from the left of his chin to his right eyebrow, he ran his fingers over the smooth, almost unblemished skin of his nose.

Suddenly, the door to his room opened with a slam, causing him to contort in a full body flinch. The figure in the door frame, who didn't seem to notice the movement, practically darted across the room and crouched down by his bedside, reaching out to hold his hand.

"Tommy? Are you okay?" they asked as their finger's interlinked with his own.

"T-Tubbo?" he just about recognised the voice through the water in his ears.

"Yeah, yeah it's me big man, I'm here."

Tommy managed to look up at his friend, who was hovering nervously, a sympathetic look in his eyes. He looked the exact same as he'd done the day before, when they went off to fight Dream, tired eyes, messy hair, ruffled green shirt that he wore as if he'd just woken up and thrown it on at the last second. There wasn't a single scratch on his face, not a sign of the bruise that Dream had inflicted on his left eye, like they'd never gone off to fight in the first place.

"Tubbo what- what happened?" 

"You had a nightmare by the looks of it," the boy responded kindly, "You were screaming really loudly."

"Oh," Tommy glanced down at his chest one more time, only to find that the pain had dulled substantially, "I guess I did."

"Do you want to... do you want to talk about it?" Tubbo asked tentatively, as if the other would break apart if he spoke too loud.

He shook his head instinctively, although his gut screamed that something was terribly, terribly wrong. He ignored the sensation and threw the blankets off himself, grimacing as a breeze of cold wind flew through the open door.

The dream felt so real; it was _too real_ to be just have been a simple nightmare. The pain was too much, too intense for it to be fake, but there was no other explanation, so he ignored the sense of foreboding that seemed to follow him at every step, at every turn of a corner, at every moment of silence where there was a lingering dread that seemed to shroud him at his shoulders, messing with his mind.

_'Something is wrong. Really really wrong.'_

He ignored it, instead electing to tug his netherite chest plate over his head and strap it in place, running his fingers over few scratches displayed on the cool, metal-like material, taking pride in the way the enchantments pulsed under his hand. Other than faint scratches on the armour, there was no sign of wear, as if it had just been made yesterday, which by all means it had. He furrowed his eyebrows, before turning to grab his boots, when something caught his eye.

The turtle helmet, that had been placed on a wooden shelf and left untouched since the Doomsday, the final reminder of what he used to have, what he could have had if he stayed in the arctic with Technoblade, the life he could have lead if he remained an anarchist. He was ashamed to admit it, but there was a part of him that longed to return to that cabin in the snow, some part of him that missed warm cups of tea and early morning sparring.

He hadn't had a cup of anything warm in weeks, and spars weren't as fun as they used to be.

Instead of ignoring the shell like last time, he turned it over gently it in his hands, tugging at the worn down leather strap that hung from the turtle scales. It held strong, even after losing most of it's durability during the battle. Last time, he hadn't even glanced in it's direction, but this time he placed it over his head and pressed it down, taking a moment to bask in the nostalgia that came with wearing it. It fit him like a glove.

It felt nice, like he was back at home again.

No... not _home_ , not after what they did to his country, to his friends... to _him._

He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was early, around four in the morning, which explained why it was still dark outside, but he still had many last minute preparations to make, enchantments to add, people to say goodbye to. Last time, they left at ten pm, so he had plenty of time to get himself together for round two.

Stepping out of his front door, he blamed the shiver down his spine on the cold.

)()()(

Somehow, it felt worse a second time.

As Tommy had walked along the prime path, Tubbo at his side and compass in hand, everyone was standing along the edges in the exact same places as in the nightmare, and, once again, a pooling anxiety settled in his stomach. Their mannerisms, their words, their glares, their gifts, they were all the same as before, the fact that Bad refused to swear even thought it might be last time they see him, the fact that Tubbo greeted Ranboo as 'the best minutes-man', the way Niki glowered in their direction silently, Ponk saying he'd always be there for them half the time, Quackity jokingly taking off his shirt when Tommy took off his helmet, Sam giving them potions, Puffy giving them last minute gapples, Jack and Eret standing at the end of the Prime path to see them off on their journey.

It was like reliving the nightmare all over again, no, it _was_ reliving the nightmare all over again.

He pinched himself.

A twinge of pain curled under his skin.

Fuck.

They had the same conversations all the way to the mountain, Tommy's communicator broke for a second time and they spent twenty minutes figuring out how to fix it, he tried to get Tubbo to talk about his feelings but he got the exact same response as last time, like he was having a conversation a broken record, and he suddenly realised that he should have seen the boy's apathy coming from the beginning.

"You know, just because you will likely die doesn't mean you should be okay with it," he said after a moment of silence, never stopping in his rowing for a moment, "You don't deserve to die."

"Neither do you, big man," Tubbo responded sharply, and they left it at that.

The rest of the day went relatively normally, travelling across the overworld, stopping and resting for short bouts of time in very familiar locations, talking and joking like it was the end of the world and by all rights, it was. Neither of them knew if they were going to return home after that day.

Well, Tommy knew, but that was besides the point.

He wouldn't die if he had anything to say about it, not again.

But because of this repeated pattern of everything being the same, he sort of expected that his battle with Dream would just be a mirror of their first dispute, but this time he knew something was off when the man threw potions down onto the floor, grinning up at them with a snarl like smile as the strength potion took effect.

It was nothing if not a bloodbath.

Within minutes, he found himself clawing at the hand that yanked him along by the hair, kicking his legs out helplessly as he was dragged along the floor. Despite his writhing and screaming, Dream didn't halt for a moment as he pulled the boy away from the mutilated corpse of his friend like hold a dog on a leash, almost as if he were taking sick sadistic pleasure in watching him futilely attempt to escape his grasp. They left behind the bloodied mess that was once the president of a great nation, reduced to nothing but a stain on the grass.

"Why?! Why did you do this?!" Tommy shouted, tears pouring down his face, desperate to get back to his ally, "Tubbo!"

"Shut up," the being hissed, as he unceremoniously dropped the boy onto the floor. He didn't receive any time to recuperate, as the next thing he knew a hand was clamped around his throat like a vice and he was dragged upwards until his legs were kicking in the air, his toes barely scraping the floor, "Stop being so loud. It's giving me a headache."

"YOU KILLED HIM, YOU MONSTER!!" Tommy choked out, tasting salt on his lips as he continued to writhe helplessly, "Why are you doing this?! He did nothing wrong-"

He was cut off when the hand tightened it's grip as he choked on a gasp, "Listen, Tommy. He was no good to you. He was nothing more than a nuisance, don't you get it?! I'm your only friend and yet you chose that... that _pawn_ over _me._ "

If Tommy had been paying more attention, he might have noticed the way Dream's tone was almost jealous.

"He's not- a _pawn_ ," the boy growled, but he was met with an amused chuckle.

"Oh, _Tommy_. When will you understand that I only want to help you?" the man asked patronisingly, tilting his head, "It's always so lovely to see you at my mercy, it's a shame you don't see it the same way."

"You're a fuckin' creep," Tommy spat, but felt his stomach drop when there was suddenly nothing under his feet. He glanced down, and a sense of sickness washed over him completely.

He was hanging over the ledge.

"You know, Techno referred to you as Theseus? That Greek hero?" 

The boy started to panic, clawing at the hand that choked him desperately, tears continuing to pour down his cheeks, hanging on for dear life, "No- no, _Dream_ \- wait-"

"I think you already know how the story goes, but I think this is a fitting was for the story to end? Don't you agree, Tommy?"

"Don't- don't do this I-" before he could finish his sentence, the man all but ripped the turtle shell helmet from his head, pulling a cry from his lips as it was chucked over the edge, "NO!"

"You know how he dies right?!" Dream continued, his voice becoming more and more demanding as if he hadn't just torn one of Tommy's last good memories away from him and tossed it to the waves, "Pushed off a cliff by the man he sought refuge with? Doesn't that seem fitting? It'll be so _poetic_. I'll be the Lycomedes to your Theseus; here's your cliff, Tommy, now let's see how well you can fly."

His eyes widened for only a brief moment, staring into the pin pricks of his greatest enemy, before the pressure on his throat alleviated. There was a small space of time that Tommy found he was thankful for the air that suddenly filled his lungs, but that time only lasted for a second as there was nothing to catch his weight on, and before he could comprehend it, he was plummeting down towards the rocky sea bellow. He let out an anguished scream of pure terror, watching as the smiling face disappeared like a flash over the edge.

Wind ripped around his body as he fell, and he couldn't help but be reminded of the tower that he'd built, all the way up to the clouds, far above all of his problems and his pain, a place where only the stars could see him and the moon shined down upon him. His only friend. There was nothing in his way, nothing to hurt him. He was completely in charge of his own destiny on the pillar, for once in his life he pulled the strings to his own puppet, but now even that small moment of relief was twisted into something vile and disgusting, just like all the other comforts in his life.

In those final moments of calm, he closed his eyes.

The world turned dark, and he heard a horrific crack, but he was dead before he could even process the pain.

)()()(

Again, he awoke.

This time, he didn't scream, he didn't cry, he didn't make a single noise as he jolted awake, instantly sitting upright in his cold dirt room.

Okay, that's _really_ fucked up.

He patted himself down between deep pants for breath, his shirt was stuck to his back discomfortingly with sweat, causing the freezing night air to feel even cooler on his skin. Running a hand through his hair, he stared at the ceiling to gather his thoughts.

He was alive, he knew that much, but he pinched his skin again just to make sure. Lo and behold, a sharp pain bit at the flesh of his arm, and he forced himself to repress a grimace. On shaking legs he stood, taking a moment to steady himself as he stumbled into the doorframe, rubbing his eyes blearily at the lights of the lanterns. He looked at the clock.

It was four in the morning.

A great weight drop onto his shoulders and his breathing stuttered in his chest. It was four in the morning. Again. It wasn't a dream, it couldn't have been a dream. He'd pinched himself before. It hurt. Leaving his friends behind for a second time. It hurt. The feeling a blade slashing at his arm, drawing blood. It hurt. Everything about that dream was real, so how was he here, how was he alive? He was so certain in those last few moments that he was supposed to die. He was going to die so why? Why was he _here_ , why was he _alive_?

It was in that moment that he realised maybe he didn't want to be.

He shook his head, dispelling those thoughts before they could overwhelm him and forced his hands to steady. Breathing in deeply and exhaling as slowly as he could, he focussed his attention trying to calm himself down and collecting his thoughts.

This was the third time he'd woken up at the exact same time, on the exact same day, in the exact same place. It couldn't have been respawning- no, respawning is far more painful that whatever _that_ was. This felt more like going to sleep and waking up again in the morning, but substitute going to sleep with literally dying. He wracked his brain for any sort of explanation, but he found nothing.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

"Oh, Tommy! You're awake already? It's like, seven in the morning!"

In the end, he spent so long trying to figure out an answer to his unsolvable question that the sun began to rise before he knew that any time had gone by.

"Hey, Tubbo," Tommy greeted from his seat at the table. He was already fully geared up, with his turtle helmet and everything, as he sat sharpening his sword for the millionth time that hour, "Sleep well?"

"Actually, yeah!" he responded, moving into the room with a faint smile, "You?"

"Well enough," the teenager lied through his teeth. Tubbo merely sent him an accusatory glance before he shrugged his shoulders and moved further into the room.

"If you insist, big man. If you insist."

The day went the exact same as last time, and Tommy couldn't help but want to pull his hair out. No one else was acting like anything was wrong, and Tubbo even sent him a couple of suspicious looks as they continued on with their war preparations, but he paid them no mind as his brain continued to run around in circles repeatedly, trying and failing to come up with a plan.

Eventually, they once again made it to the top of the mountain. Tubbo squeezed his hand for good luck one last time before they met Dream at the peak.

He didn't die immediately, which he considered a win in his books. They fought valiantly, but in the end it was never enough, as Tommy found himself, once again, armour-less and weak. In fact, he had almost been a little _too_ quick to give up the armour, already taking it off before Dream's demand was even finished. Obediently, he followed Dream as he walked silently, and this time it was Tubbo carrying the one sided conversation. At multiple points, Tubbo tugged on Tommy's sleeve, his eyes begging for any sort of verbal response, some sort of comfort, but the blond had nothing left to give.

Dream gave his usual villain speech, and again Tommy felt sick at the sight of the human sized display case. Tubbo looked like he was going to throw up at any moment, his face paling as he studied the hall of valuables that Dream had collected or planned to, trying to meet Tommy's eyes in an attempt to communicate with him silently, but the blond refused to even glance in his direction.

In the end, he was more worried about the feeling of numbness that began to spread through his chest than the way his entire body went limp in a bloody pile on the floor, an axe embedded in between his ribs.

)()()(

He'd started calling them time loops.

Every day, he'd wake up in cold sweat, water dripping from his forehead at four in the morning, he and Tubbo would walk down the prime path to say their final goodbyes, they'd leave to travel to the mountain at ten at night, it would take them until sunrise to get to their destination and they'd fight with Dream at the peak of the cliffs. This was where the events diverted.

Sometimes Dream would back them into a corner and blackmail them with the fake discs and lure them to the underground bunker, where he'd proceed to kill Tubbo before ending Tommy's life quickly and brutally, or sometimes Tubbo would be cut down during their battle, left as nothing more than a corpse on the floor, and Dream would taunt him and play with his food, before inevitably killing him too, or leaving him to bleed out slowly on the floor, staring at his best friend's lifeless form.

The end result was always the same. He'd always die, and then he'd wake up at four in the morning again.

It was the same one and a half day timespan looping on repeat, and no matter what he did it was always just another blood bath. Sure, there was _some_ variety in the loops, like that one time that Niki nodded in their direction on their way out, or when Puffy gave them 20 golden apples instead of 15, but there was never anything major until they met up with Dream. It seemed so, so _endless_. Maybe it was?

Tommy couldn't find it in himself to care. He just need to find a way to get _out_.

On loop 20, however, something changed.

_Dramatically._

When they reached the top of the mountain, a feat that always manage to churn his stomach and cause his teeth to clench in anticipation, he soon noticed that Dream wasn't the only person standing in the clearing. Standing besides the smiling faced man, was an all too familiar figure, their red cape flowing in the wind behind them, a firm and serious expression set on their face. Standing, out there in the open, was the one man Tommy didn't want to see.

"Technoblade?!" Tubbo took a step backwards, and Tommy had to grab him by the bicep to prevent him from slipping over the edge, "Wh- what?!"

Dream's smile twisted in a sort of disturbing satisfaction, "So I thought I'd bring the big guns today, give you a _big_ grand finale."

Techno was completely covered in gleaming netherite, the enchantments on the metal radiating a soft glow of purple creating an intense aura that made Tommy want to curl into himself further. He knew for a fact that Technoblade didn't particularly enjoy Dream's company (or, at least he didn't when Tommy was staying with him) so there could only be one reason why the piglin had showed up that day.

"The favour," Tommy muttered to himself, his eyes widening as his body caught up with his brain, "You called in the favour."

"Favour? What favour?" Tubbo asked desperately, looking to his friend for answers, but he received no response as Tommy's expression set into a hard frown.

"Really Techno? You're still teaming up with that prick?" he spat, "I thought you were better than that."

"If this'll count as my favour," Techno shrugged his shoulders casually. With both Dream and Technoblade there, they didn't stand a chance. They were going to get slaughtered, "Then I'm willin' to work with him."

"You fucking-" Tommy cut himself off with a breathy laugh, going to run his hand through his hair before he remembered that he was wearing a helmet.

The turtle helmet.

His fingers froze the moment they touched the scaly material and his breathing stopped in his chest. If he thought God hated him before, the bitch must have been cackling. Hilarious. Really funny joke. An emotion welled up inside his chest that he couldn't quite place. Guilt? Shame? Grief? Loss? Nostalgia? All he knew was that he hated every moment of it.

"Do you know what? Fuck this," he growled, tilting his chin up slightly, pulling the Axe of Peace from it's belt loop and brandishing it, "I've had it up to here with you, Dream. Do you think this is some kind of game? Do you think my life is just something for you to play with, cause that's- that's _fucked_ _up_."

"I haven't even started playing with you yet, Tommy," Dream grinned even wider than before, obviously taking pride in the way his enemies shook before him, "We've barely even gotten started-"

"No, I think this game has gone on long enough," Tommy interrupted, taking an aggressive step forwards and he pointed his weapon directly at the duo, ignoring the way his arm trembled under the weight, "I have to admit, you caught me off guard by bringing the Blade here, but that doesn't mean shit to me. You just want to see me suffer over and over again and I've had it up to here with your schemes."

"I just want to take you down a peg," the being replied, "I think that's what everyone wants. The server would be better off if you were gone. No more wars, no more conflict. Just peace."

"Don't listen to him, Tommy," Tubbo butted in, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder and taking his place by his side, holding his head up high, "He's just trying to get under your skin."

"Oh, I know he's trying to get under my fucking skin," Tommy growled, "You aren't going to wear me down with insults this time, Dream. You manipulated me, used me, I'm sick of it. I'm sick of _you_."

"Says the guy who betrays everyone!" Dream retorted, "You're the exact reason why everyone is so divided on everything on this server! You're presence alone has caused- countless wars and-"

"I don't betray everyone! You-"

"What do you mean you don't betray everyone?" Techno spoke up for the first time, gritting his teeth, "I was literally your friend and you just went straight back to your government, the people who exiled you!"

"The exile wouldn't have happened if Dream weren't there! He just wants to manipulate me! He even said that I'm only alive because I'm fun, because he can use me. He only wants me for my attachme-"

Tommy cut himself off abruptly, catching the words before they left his mouth, but he'd said enough.

Oh fuck.

"... What was that, Tommy?" Dream asked, using a disturbingly sweet voice, suddenly sounding far too calm as he took a slow, deliberate step forward, "Go on, _finish_ that sentence."

The air was filled with a thick tension and Tubbo and Techno both watched as Tommy's face fell into one of pure horror.

"Nothing- It-it's nothing I-"

"No, Tommy. Please, tell me what you were about to say."

Tommy swallowed, and suddenly he felt like he was standing in the crosshairs of a predator, every part of his body screamed to run, and his hands twitched by his sides. The man stalked closer, taking another step.

"I'm not sure if I like the implications of your statement there, _Tommy_."

Tubbo shrunk back, making awkward eye contact with the piglin who stood behind his ally, gripping his sword and trident tightly in both hands. The way the admin had said Tommy's name didn't just make the boy himself feel uncomfortable

"Depends what you think I mean," the taller teenager shot back, crossing his arms over his chest indifferently, but he began to shift nervously under the intense gaze.

"Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean," Dream almost cooed sickeningly, making even Technoblade grimace, "How many times have we done this, Tommy? Ten? Twenty? How many times have you died by my hand?"

Tommy hated the fact that his throat closed up and his hands began to tremble in a familiar way.

He couldn't be implying... no.

_No._

"H-how?" he choked out dumbly, fighting the way a primal part of his brain caused an electricity to buzz under his skin, begging him to run, to flee, "How do you-"

"Who do you think is causing this to happen?!" Dream asked as if it were obvious, spreading his arms in an open gesture, "I mean, I knew you were a naïve child, but I didn't think you were that _stupid_!"

"You- you're the one who's making this happen to me. You're the reason- you're the reason I-" Tommy felt a fury climb up his ribs as his lips turned into a snarl, "You're the- you're actually a _fucking_ monster."

"Maybe I am," the being replied calmly, "I just thought that for our twentieth anniversary, you'd appreciate being killed by someone _other_ than me."

Before Tommy could even process what was happening, there was a blur of movement and a fingerless-gloved hand had shoved Tubbo away just long enough for the other to grab Tommy by the head and slam it into Dream's knee. It happened so fast that he couldn't even cry out as a bruising pain bloomed from his temple. He felt grass and rocks against his face for only a moment, hardly even realising that he must have been on the floor, before his helmet was ripped from his head and there was a fist yanking tightly at his hair as his face was ploughed into the earth, not once, not twice, but three times, each time causing his brain to rattle in his skull until a noise that sounded eerily similar to a crack rang across the field.

"TOMMY!!" Tubbo screamed from nearby, but his shout was cut off abruptly, soon followed by the thud of a body against the floor.

As much as he wanted to respond, to call out, he found that he could hardly move his arms without wanting to throw up. Suddenly, there were hands on his body and his head swam as he felt himself be shuffled into an upright position and a bottle opening was pressed to his lips. He fought it to the best of his abilities, pressing his lips together tightly but his attempts were fruitless as he pathetically tried to shove the hands away, and he was eventually forced to down whatever potion the person was making him drink.

Although the liquid burned as he swallowed it, surprisingly, his vision slowly began to clear, and the world turned from a blur of blue and green and orange to something more concrete. He could make out shapes and vague outlines and the bile that was rising in his throat climbed back down, but there was still a fiery sensation at the back of his mouth.

He blinked once, then twice, taking a moment to process the sweet taste of glistening melons on his tongue. Healing potion. Someone had healed him.

A fit of coughs wracked up his body and he doubled over, a burning pain coursing through his chest as he placed a hand out in the grass to support himself.

"Yeah, I probably hit him a bit too hard..." someone said nearby. There was the sound of movement before the person patted him on the shoulder, "Let it out, there you go."

As soon as he was coherent enough, he slapped the hand away, "Get the _fuck_ off me."

"There you go," he could hear the smug smile in Dream's voice, "That's the fire we like to see."

Nearby him, Tommy could see a body crumpled in a heap on the floor and he grimaced. He couldn't tell if Tubbo was unconscious or dead, but with how many times Dream had killed the boy in previous loops, he was inclined to believe the latter.

"Well that was anti-climactic," a monotonous voice said, "What now?"

"Technoblade, I only need you to do one thing for me and then your favour is fulfilled. You're debt will be repaid," Dream replied, and Tommy heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed, causing his stomach to drop even further.

"What is it?"

"It's quite simple, Techno. I need you to kill him."

Tommy's eyes widened minutely before he frowned again. He despised the tremble in his hands and scrunched them up into fists to hide the fact his entire body was starting to shake.

"You fucking... you're fuckin' horrible," he scoffed, finally looking up for the first time.

Despite the remaining fuzziness in his vision, there was something odd about Technoblade's expression. At first glance, it might have seemed neutral, unreadable, but there was something about the way his shoulders had dropped, his ears had pressed themselves to the back of his head and his tusked lips were parted ever so slightly that made him seem almost apprehensive. Tommy that wanted to believe he was imagining things when he saw Techno stand at an angle, his chest turned away slightly but his black and white eyes still staring right into his soul, flickering across his face as if expecting some kind of reaction, some sort of shock or fight.

But all Tommy could give him was acceptance.

Tubbo was most likely dead, and even if he wasn't, he was out cold. He hadn't even stirred as Dream stepped over his blacked out body, so grabbing him and running was a no go. Even if Tommy somehow managed to miraculously survive and run away on his own, Tubbo would still be gone, and Dream would undoubtable hold Tubbo's death over his head in the future, so this timeline just wasn't worth living in.

Secondly, he was faced against two of the most prestigious and famously brutal warriors the world had ever known, one of whom was professionally trained in hunting down and killing, the other other of whom was the champion of the Blood God, who'd grown up in the fighting ring, the King of the Antarctic Empire, the one person who could never seem to die.

He was completely cornered, out gunned and out manned, with his only reason for living knocked out on the floor.

Tommy sighed.

"Well fuck me I guess."

"You want me to kill 'im?" Techno asked with a raised eyebrow, glancing at the being who stood next to him.

"Yes. And make it hurt."

_("I want you to execute him RIGHT NOW! On this FUCKING STAGE!" Schlatt yelled, ignoring the crowd of shocked faced bellow him, focussing all attention on the piglin who stood before him, rocket launcher held in a white knuckle grip in a unnoticeably trembling hand. The horror on his face, however, was clear for all to see, "And make it HURT!!")_

If Tommy had been paying any less attention, he might not have noticed Techno swallowing dryly, his eyes gaining a far away look for only a second, he blinked and the moment was gone.

"Alright," he said after a moment, "But after this you'd better give me an explanation for what the hell's been goin' on."

"Don't bother," Tommy chimed in, wearing a far too casual expression for someone who was about to be executed, "If I die, you'll never get your answers. It's not worth it your time."

"What do you mean?" Techno turned his attention to him, his face set in an expression of morbid curiosity, "What do you mean, _'if you die I'll never get my answers'_?"

"It's exactly what it says on the tin, big man. If I die, you'll never get your answer because me and Big D over there will be gone. God knows what will happen to you in this timeline."

"Timeline- what?"

"Tommy that's enough," Dream interrupted, his voice barely above a growl, "Just kill him, Techno. I'll explain later, I promise."

"Yeah, sure you will," Tommy scoffed sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "It doesn't matter anyways, just kill me and get it over with."

"Kill you-" it was strange seeing Techno stammer over his words. He must have been expecting some sort of classic _'Tommy retaliation'_ , because he looked upon the boy as if he were staring at an imposter.

"Either you do it or I will, big man," Tommy snapped, glowering at the man who he once considered something like a brother, "I know how this'll end, either I die and have to start again or I live and have to continue on in a world without Tubbo and I'm not picking the _fucking_ second one."

"Can someone just _explain_ -"

"No," Dream cut in again, and if Tommy hadn't known any better, he would have thought he sounded frustrated, "Just do it, Technoblade. Kill him. I'll explain what he meant after he's gone, I promise."

"When has he ever kept his promises, Techno?" the teenager spoke up, wafting a hand in the air like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Stop wasting your time and just kill me."

"Can't you just tell me what's goin' on?" Techno asked, his pitch raising slightly, "I'm not killin' you until someone here explains what's goin' on here. You've both been talkin' in riddles."

There was a beat of silence, no one daring to speak up. Dream glowered angrily.

"Is Tubbo dead?" Tommy muttered the question, a blank expression on his face.

"Heh?"

"I'll tell you what's going on, depending on the answer."

Techno stared at him for a moment, but the boy didn't falter at the powerful gaze, shooting back at him with a look of equal seriousness. Dream clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, his usually smiling face warped into some sort of grimace.

"He's dead," the piglin said, but he didn't seem pleased about it. In fact, he looked more disturbed than anything else.

Tommy released a breath.

"It's pointless then," he felt the hope instantly drain from his body and his eyes unfocussed, "There's no point in telling you, because you won't remember."

"What do you mean I won't remember?!" Techno cried, looking between the two soldiers, "Why can't you just tell me?!"

"Because I'm not going to keep living in a world without Tubbo!" Tommy shouted right back, feeling something wet roll down his cheek as he scrunched up his eyes, "The second I die, it's over, I restart all over again, and I'm not going to keep living in this place, so you might as well fucking kill me, Technoblade!"

"What do you mean you'll have to restart?!", upon receiving a response that he couldn't even start to comprehend, the piglin turned his attention to the other being among them, "Dream, what's he on about?" 

Instead of giving an answer, Dream asked, "Do you want to die, Tommy?"

The question was weighty, phrased in such a casual manner that Technoblade furrowed his brow, the wisp of a shiver crawling up his spine, but Tommy wasn't phased by it at all, not bothering to move his body and instead turning his head to the green cloaked figure with a dead look in his eyes.

"If it means I get to see Tubbo again, then yes."

"And, even if he doesn't kill you, you'll still try to die, am I correct?"

"If it means I get Tubbo back."

Dream huffed, but it sounded more amused than anything else, "Fine. If it means I get to have more fun with you, then so be it. If he won't do it, then I guess I'll take up the mantle."

Tommy barely had time to recognise the whip of something slashing through air before a shocking pain exploded from his side, and he opened his mouth in a silent gasp, Dream's blade plunging deep into his flesh in between the plates of his armour.

Oh fuck.

No matter how many times he'd died previously, it didn't change the fact that dying _hurt_. There was nothing that could stop his body screaming in agony as a sword was impaled through his chest, or an axe was brought down on his skull; there was always that primal instinct that cried out every time a weapon was swiped in his direction or he fell to his death, and this loop was no different. It still hurt. _Fuck_ did it hurt.

The blade was torn from his side abruptly, and he stumbled backwards, far too close to the edge for comfort. He only just felt the breath leave his lungs as he slammed into the ground, clutching at the newly made wound from which blood began to pour uncontrollably; nearby, there was shouting, sounds of a scuffle and blades clashing against each other, but he couldn't hear them properly, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't _breathe_.

It was like he was drowning all over again, metres under the water's surface. Inside, his mind was kicking and screaming, slowly pulling himself upwards, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break the surface tension; he was stuck, surrounded on all sides by a blurred inky blackness that started to coil over his eyes, his vision starting to blur once again. He was going to die.

Suddenly, there was a hand scooping under his head, and someone shuffling his body, and he blinked blearily, staring up at the smudge of pink above him. Distantly, he could make out the rumbling vibrations of someone talking to him, but his brain couldn't seem to catch up with his body.

"Kid, wake up, stay awake," someone said, "I'm gonna call Phil, just stay alive until then, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"'S no point," he murmured, subconsciously leaning into the hand that held his head steady, "'M gonna die."

"You're not gonna die, not on my watch."

There was a pressure on his wound, causing him to let out a hiss of discomfort, "It's- it's fine. Really. It's okay."

"Just stay _alive_ kid," they growled, pulling their communicator from their pocket and typing in a message, "Phil'll be here soon, you'll be fine."

"Techno-"

"You'll be _fine_."

Slowly and shakily, Tommy raised his hand, tremors wracking through his body, but he still found the strength to give a trembling smile, "Techno, it's okay. It doesn't matter, I'll wake back up again, I swear."

"You're on your last life, you need to stay awake."

"No, it's- it doesn't work like that."

"What does that mean?" the piglin desperately tried to keep him talking, "Tommy what does that mean?"

"I'm stuck in a time loop, big man-" he was cut off by cough clawing at his throat and he nearly doubled over in an attempt to stop himself from choking on his own blood. His mouth tasted of iron, "I'm stuck... in a time loop and I- fuck. Every day, I wake up... in my room and- and I come here and I die and I can't-"

His hand finally found it's place on his old ally's hand, the one that was still pressing down desperately onto his wound, a feeble endeavour to stop the bleeding. He could already feel the effects of blood loss kicking in, but for some reason, the wound didn't hurt that badly.

"You're what?"

"I know I sound- I know I sound crazy man but I- it's happened so many times that I just-" blood coated his teeth as he gave the widest grimace possible, "I'm so fucking tired man... I don't- I don't want to have to do it all over again-"

"Save your strength," Techno interrupted, pulling out a potion from his inventory, "You're not gonna die on me, not today. You don't have to do it again, I promise."

"Techno-"

"Phil will get here soon, I'm sure he'll be able to think of something that can help you," he uncapped the bottle, it glistened and swirled in it's glass bottle, "He's a real book nerd, you know? Surely he'll think of something."

"Tech-"

"Just keep holding on, Theseus, you'll be fine-"

" _Technoblade_."

The piglin stopped midway in his ramblings, finally looking up to meet the dying boy's eyes. There was no panic in Tommy's expression; he'd long since stopped fearing death. Instead, he smiled tiredly, not his usual broad grin, but more of a sad kind of smile, a quiet show of acceptance.

"I don' wanna be saved."

"Wha- why?" Techno asked, his ears pressed against his head in distress, "Why do you-"

"Because Tubbo's dead," Tommy explained, feeling his energy slowly slip away, "I can't- I can't keep living in this world without him... he's my other half. Without him I- I'm nothin'."

The taller of the two stared down at him, still holding his head in his lap, "So you're just... you're just _acceptin'_ this?"

_("Why have you just- why have you just accepted it?! Don't just accept it now!"_

_"All good things must come to an end eventually, and this is my... this is my 'coming to an end'.")_

"Yeah," Tommy sighed, looking straight up into the sky, and for the first time in a long time, he took a moment to appreciate the clouds, "I guess I am."

They sat there, at the peak of the clifftops, in silence, a discarded potion of healing emptied nearby on the floor. There were worse ways to go, Tommy thought as black spots danced in the corners of his vision and his mind began to swim with the effort it took to stay awake. It wasn't the first time he'd died slowly, Dream had left him to bleed out on the floor plenty of times before, but the difference between all those other times and this one, was the fact that he wasn't alone. There was someone there, holding him silently, willing to wait out his final moments before the world would inevitably turn dark.

"'M sorry," he murmured, letting a final smile grace his lips.

Not for the first nor final time, TommyInnit died at the top of that mountain.

Technoblade felt his communicator buzz gently in his pocket, but he didn't need to check the notification to know what the message was. Instead, he brought two fingers over the teenager boy's eyes and gently closed them, leaving smudges of blood along his eyelids. He almost looked like he was sleeping like this, so terribly, terribly young, the only indication of anything wrong was the raw, gaping stab wound to his abdomen.

His last words were _'I'm sorry.'_

Carefully, he laid out the bodies of the dead teenagers next to each other, but took little pity in throwing Dream off the edge of the cliff, but not before looting his corpse. Still not saying a word, he knelt down in front of them, placing his sword in the grass by his side and clasped both of his hands together, still slicked with the blood of his best friend's pseudo son. Phil had never called Tommy his son, not directly. He was Wilbur's brother, but never Phil's son. However, it didn't escape his notice how the man had slowly started to warm up to the boy in the time he had lived with them, began teaching him how to tend to the turtles properly or letting him watch as he made potions. There was something fatherly about the way Phil had looked at Tommy, something that ran far deeper than simply taking care of the friend of his son.

And even though Tommy had betrayed him in the end, he didn't deserve to have to die like this. At a cliff top, miles away from his friends and family.

"You have bled for the Blood God," Techno muttered into his clasped hands in prayer, "Now may you be protected in the afterlife as his warrior, the kin to the champion of War."

His Chat shouted and mourned, crying out in anguish, begging him to find Dream and take his last two lives, calling for blood shed, for revenge, for pain, but the eldest ones listened intently, only chiming in every so often.

**"He will return, it is beyond our abilities to stop it."**

**"There is something wrong with this time, our universe is evolving, changing."**

**"Your kin is at the forefront of this change."**

**"It truly is a shame that you won't remember it."**

The next time Technoblade awoke, the first thing he noticed was was the horrid sense of grief nagging at the back of his mind, like he was mourning the death of somebody he'd never known, like something had happened that he just couldn't quite remember, a familiar name on the tip of his tongue yet it was of a person he'd never known. The second thing was that his Chat was oddly quiet that morning, murmuring to each other in the backs of his mind, asking each other question after question. It seemed they didn't know what was going on either.

The third thing he noticed was that he was crying.

With a disgruntled growl, he wiped a thumb over his eye with a disgusted expression. There was no reason for him to be crying, he'd slept a dreamless sleep and woke up a regular time. Phil had actually forced him to go to bed _early_ the night before, saying something about overworking himself as he practically ushered him up the stairs. The world was at a time of peace, so what reason did he have to cry?

He chalked it up to coincidence and trudged downstairs, knowing full well it would nag at him for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a one shot, but I decided to split it into two parts for efficiency, and I also know that you guys want more content, which I shall provide to you :)
> 
> SEE THE TOP NOTES FOR IMPORTANT NOTICE.


End file.
